


The Strongest Avenger

by MelissaBosquez



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Gen, Humor, Lets Pretend Civil War and everything after weren't a thing, Not Canon Compliant, Peter Parker Whump, Rhodey has the only brain cell, Sick Peter Parker, Sick Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Whump, Vomiting, competitive dorks, just a bit of silliness really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22537087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelissaBosquez/pseuds/MelissaBosquez
Summary: What happens when a Spider-baby challenges you to an eating contest to determine who the real strongest Avenger is? You kick his ass of course.ORPeter issues a challenge. There are no winners. Except for maybe Rhodey, holder of the only brain cell.
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 9
Kudos: 180





	The Strongest Avenger

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is guys. lol It has been sitting in my drafts since October and was meant to be used for whumptober but instead languished away. Can you tell what I was eating while I wrote this? Anyways, enjoy this nonsense and leave a kudo or comment if you enjoyed. lol

"And what have we learned today?"

Tony groaned and flushed the toilet, spitting miserably into the bowl, pointedly trying to ignore his best friend while also containing the contents of his stomach. 

Peter popped his head up from where he lay sprawled on the floor on the other side of the commode. He hadn’t thrown up in a solid ten minutes and was feeling optimistic that this nightmare was over. "Buffalo wings are just as spicy coming back up as going down?"

"And?" Rhodey prompted, placing a cool washcloth across Tony’s neck.

"It's going to burn even more out the other end?" he groaned miserably.

“Oh god I didn’t even think of that!” Peter exclaimed turning wide eyed to face the men.

"Nah, man that's just gross. I didn't ask for that image. I meant about accepting ridiculous challenges from teenagers?"

“I resent that remark!”

"Is it ridiculous if I still won?" Tony said puffing his chest out a little, a slight grin curling on his lips.

Rhodey never missed a beat.

"Yes." 

“There were no winners here today,” Peter moaned as his stomach gave another lurch and he pushed Tony out of the way.

It was Super Bowl Sunday and even though Tony couldn't tell you a single thing about football, any excuse had been good enough to throw a party, under the pretense of team building of course. The common room of the Compound had been done up with football memorabilia and enough pizza, wings, and assorted junk food to accommodate super soldiers, enhanced spiderboys and the common man alike. 

It was during the atrocious halftime performance of some pop artist that Peter, being the little shit he was, proposed a more interesting halftime show.

"Okay, let's settle who the strongest Avenger is once and for all. Whoever can eat the most spicy buffalo wings AND without having any kind of drink or use anything to cool the heat, will claim the title!" 

Peter's excitement was contagious, even if his idea was a little ridiculous, but if there was one thing the Avengers definitely were, it was competitive. Peter had even managed to inspire Steve "My milk is too spicy" Rogers, Clint and even Happy to accept the challenge. 

"What about you Mr. Stark? You're not afraid are you?" Peter had asked with a knowing twinkle in his eye. He knew exactly how to manipulate the older man into doing just about anything these days.

"Tony…" Rhodey had tried to warn him but it was too late. A challenge was a challenge and he knew Tony felt he had to put the spiderbaby in check. 

"I'll have you know, you're challenging the wing eating champion. I still hold the wing record at that bar we used to go to across from MIT. Remember that Rhodey? They have my picture hung up and everything, very official." 

"Yeah, that was 1987 Tones and the picture on the wall is because you were banned. Need I remind you of the other record you hold from the very same day in the projectile vomiting category? You still owe me a new sweatshirt by the way."

"I owe you no such thing, that was my sweatshirt to begin with. Besides that particular display was from the alcohol, not the wings. Trust me, platypus, I've got this."

"Were you even old enough to drink in 1987, Mr. Stark?" Peter asked, slowly calculating the math from Tony's birth year on wikipedia to the alleged incident. 

"That is entirely irrelevant, Parker, are we doing this or what?" Tony clutched the boys shoulders and steered him towards the spread of food.

Rhodey had become the begrudging judge and monitor of their little eating contest, managing to be extremely professional and 100% disapproving at the same time. 

Tony was seated at the very end of the table with Peter to his left followed by Happy, Steve and Clint. Happy had been completely in a zen like trance while Steve and Clint traded quips back and forth though Steve’s heart wasn’t really in it. Tony figured that he’d be the first to go, he could barely handle the spice on BBQ chips. Clint was the wild card. He actually added  _ more _ sauce to his plate of wings like a maniac.

Peter continued to keep his jabs and sight on Tony though, unconcerned for the competition. 

“You’re going down, old man,” he grinned.

Tony scoffed. “You’ll be begging for your Aunt by the time we’re done, Underoos.”

“Alright, focus up! You guys have ten minutes to completely ruin the lining of your esophagus.You have to clear all the meat from the bone or it won’t count, but I’m sure as hell not looking either so, Avengers honor here. We will keep going until either ten minutes has expired or you have. No drinks, no ranch, no celery. If anyone feels the urge to be sick go do that somewhere far away from me because if you splatter my new shoes you’ll be going a few rounds with War Machine. Also, I’d like to notate that as the Avengers only brain cell I am monitoring this contest under duress and will not hesitate to throw you under the bus to your spouses, significant others and unusually attractive Aunt’s, for your idiotic choices.”

He glared pointedly at Tony and Peter but that just earned a few laughs and some heckling from Clint before he checked his watch and gave the team the go ahead to start.

They all started out strong, Steve and Peter in particular surging forward, their advanced metabolism and bottomless pit stomachs allowing them to quickly devour their food. Clint and Tony were right behind them and Happy seemed content to take his time and play the long game. 

It wasn’t long before Steve started to drop off, his face beet red and sweaty. In the middle of his tenth wing he slowed down considerably, tongue hanging out of his mouth like a panting dog. 

“Nope, not worth the glory. Avenge me, Clint,” Cap called running for the table of drinks and downing as many waters as he could find. 

Tony kept stealing glances at the kid for any outward signs of slowing down but there were none. He dove into his plate with the same vigor as when they started. 

Happy followed not long after Cap. His strategy of taking it slow not having the desired effect. While it had been easier on his stomach it had also allowed him to really taste every bit of the spicy sauce. The sweat was rolling from his curly head of hair and after a couple whiffs of Clint applying additional hot sauce and he was tapped out. 

“Why would you add more hot sauce?!” Happy yelled as he jumped from his chair looking for anything to ease the burning in his mouth.

“Don’t gotta worry about the spice if you can’t feel your tongue,” Clint shrugged. “Besides, this sauce is weak. You make this Cap?”

Steve rolled his eyes from where he was now lounging across the couch, crunching on ice chips.

“Slide me some of that Legolas,” Tony called out, not missing Peter’s eyes going wide.

“Always happy to help eliminate the competition,” Clint said and slid the glass container down the way. 

Tony added an unhealthy amount to his pile of wings and turned to Peter with a wry grin. “You’re up kid, unless you don’t think you can handle it.”

Peter’s face morphed from concern to determination as he added the sauce to his pile as well, taking a large bite out of a wing and chewing obnoxiously. Rhodey could only facepalm in the background.

By the two minute warning all three men were waning. Clint bowed out citing the need to keep his dignity in tact as Peter and Tony matched each other wing for wing, snot, tears and sweat constantly being wiped away between bites. 

“You’re...so...going...down...Mr. Stark,” Peter gasped half heartedly, holding on to his wing but doing little more than staring it down, as if he could will it into his stomach.

“You’re looking a little shade of ‘Hulk’ green, kid. The end is nigh,” Tony grimaced through his own wing.

“I can’t feel my lips anymore, is that bad?”

“Definitely. Give it up.”

“Honestly, Parker I might have to call it, you don’t look so good. Your Aunt May is going to kill Tony,” Rhodey said coming to his side. Peter’s face was flushed and his eyes half lidded. It was a toss up whether he would pass out or end up puking his guts out.

“What did I do?” Tony cried out defensively.

“You sanctioned this madness, I told you, you’re going under the bus,” Rhodey pointed at him.

“It was the kids idea!”

“Exactly. He’s the kid, you’re the adult.”

“I love it when you talk sternly to me,” Tony blew a mock kiss at his friend, and continued his quest to retain his title, no matter how much heartburn was currently spreading across his chest.

Peter felt queasy at the prospect of even looking at his next wing. His stomach was full and he was pretty sure he burned away all of his taste buds and maybe even his entire tongue. If he kept going he knew what he was heading for. He definitely didn’t want to attempt breaking Tony’s projectile vomiting record. He already knew he’d be hearing about this one for weeks. 

Peter groaned and pushed his plate away. “I’ll get you next time, Mr. Stark,” he conceded and gave the man an exaggerated shake of his fist.

“Oh thank god, I didn’t know how much longer I could make it,” Tony said tossing his food back down. “My whole body is on fire.”

Tony stood up from the table slowly, one arm holding his stomach “Strongest Avenger, woo,”he exclaimed half heartedly, sweat still beaded at his forehead and he swayed unsteadily as he felt his stomach drop.

Rhodey reached out to steady him and then caught the moment that Tony's face went grey, an all too familiar precursor before Tony broke his second record of the night. All over Rhodey's shirt. And jeans. And shoes. Why the shoes????

“Whoa, you weren’t kidding about that projectile record, were you Mr. Rhodey?” Peter laughed and then cut off abruptly, his face taking on the same greyish quality as Tony’s. “Um. Seeing other people...it kinda makes me...and with everything I’ve eaten…” 

The boy launched himself from his seat and at least had the decency of making it to the bathroom before losing it. Though from the sounds echoing throughout the compound it wasn’t any easier.

That was how they all three ended up in the common bathroom, Tony's upchuck reflexes making themselves known several more times before granting him a modicum of relief. 

Rhodey had changed his clothes after dumping his friend into the bathroom, his own clothing being completely ruined, and his shoes along with them. He mother henned and fixed the washcloth from falling off of Tony's neck as it was his turn again to hug the porcelain bowl.

Peter was cautiously rinsing his mouth out at the sink.

"Thanks for always taking care of me, honeybear," Tony mumbled and smiled at him, Rhodey returning it. 

He couldn’t help still seeing that same dumb 17 year old he had helped through sickness years ago and many times since. "What are best friends for?"

"Don't tell Pepper. She's not quite as understanding of my antics."

"I can't imagine why."

"Rhooooodey," Tony whined.

"Okay, fine. I promise I won’t tell Pepper, but you're not off the hook quite yet. You destroyed my shoes so as soon as you’re mobile I'm going to kick your ass."

"I'm sick!" 

"Limited Edition, Tony. You brought this on yourself."

“If I may be the voice of reason…” Peter interjected and the two men turned to him doubtfully. He was actually a little offended at those looks. Like Mr. Stark wasn’t just as bad as Peter was. “Perhaps there is another way to settle this than physical violence...or eating contests!!” He quickly amended before either man could bring up that stellar idea. 

“I’m listening,”Rhodey began warily and Peter grinned widely.

“Why do I feel like I’m not going to like this?” Tony moaned.

Rhodey got his new replacement pair of limited edition shoes three days later in exchange for his silence to Pepper and May, but that wasn’t all. Proudly displayed for all to see as you walked into Avenger’s facility was an over large picture of a smiling James Rhodes, a single caption forever etched into the vibranium framing.

James Rhodes, War Machine - The Strongest Avenger.


End file.
